


Firewhiskey to Forget

by theemdash



Series: Unfaithful Trilogy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drunk Sex, Guilt, Infidelity, M/M, Rough Sex, Rutting, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-02
Updated: 2005-11-02
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:09:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theemdash/pseuds/theemdash
Summary: A bar, a stranger, a drink—all to soothe an anger burning too brightly in Jack's thoughts to forget. (PWP steeped in guilt.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for roadrunner1896 (the pairing was her choice). Continued thinking on the circumstances led me to write the next two installments. All are the same universe, but can be read as stand-alone.

Jack isn't sure how he got here, but he decides that he doesn't quite care. Naked and thrusting against someone who isn't Daniel isn't quite as much of a problem as he thought it would be. He might attribute his blasé attitude to the strangely potent drink his "friend" bought for him . . . but Jack isn't in any state to think rationally.

The man—with the clever pseudonym "Black"—bites into Jack's neck, all teeth, no lip. It's hard, harder than Daniel ever bit him. Jack flinches away, a noise half-way between a growl and a heavy exhale coming from his throat.

"Sorry," the thick voice mutters. "Forgot who I wasn't with."

Jack expects a scowl when he pushes the shock of black hair away from Black's face and looks into grey eyes. "Yeah, I didn't."

A wicked smile follows an even more wicked gleam in Black's eyes. "Didn't give you enough firewhiskey." He thrusts smoothly, rubbing their cocks together.

Jack blinks, feeling his eyes want to roll back. He fights the sensation, grounding himself on the thought that this isn't Daniel, remembering that he still loves Daniel.

"Hey." Jack hears the hesitation in his own voice, only hopes Black doesn't hear it too.

"Know you're not here for me." A grunt. "Just pretend it, eh?"

Sharp fingers dig into Jack's shoulder, holding him down. He really isn't used to this. Daniel is gentle. Sometimes, yeah, when Jack pushes him, Daniel will get rough, but it is never like this. It's never biting, acrid, painful, scratching—like dogs in heat.

"What was in that drink?" Jack finally voices the question he doesn't want answered.

"Stronger stuff." Their dicks slide together again and they both groan in an awkward harmony. "Now shut it so I can come."

Jack wants to say something more, but the thought of this stranger coming on him, the authority in his voice—Jack's mind shuts off and he gets with the program, thrusting, groaning, straining for completion. It becomes a race. Somehow Jack knows that once Black comes, he'll be gone. And Jack doesn't want to be left with his dick in his hand.

Hot breath hits Jack's neck a second before teeth sink in again. This time Jack is ready for the stinging pain and he can refocus it. He turns the pain into something pleasurable and actually finds himself craving a third bite.

"Bite me." Black stretches his neck out before Jack's lips. "Bite hard. Harder than I bit you."

Jack can't help but comply.

He's never bitten anyone this hard before—not even when fighting for his life. He could actually taste blood. Some animalistic part of his brain got off on it—Daniel would lecture him on where that had roots in the vampire subculture, or Nosferatu, or a thousand other things to make Jack's eyes glaze. This guy? This guy understands the thrill and just cants his hips faster, making Jack bite down harder, bringing them both off.

"Gu-Remus!"

Jack's mouth gasps open. Daniel's name forms in his mind, but he is determined to not say it, not to let this stranger know the name of his passion. 

The orgasm somehow clears Jack's mind and brings his guard back up. Jack smirks, folding his hands behind his head, making the observation as he replays the aural bits of the last thirty seconds. "You're not here for me, either."

His lip curls up in a clear snarl. Black's eyes are dead and grey—the pleasurable man who had poured drinks down Jack's gullet, slid his hand up Jack's thigh, and breathlessly suggested, "I know a place" was gone.

He picks up two pairs of jeans, sorts them, and throws one at Jack. They both slip them on.

"Shove off," he says to the almost empty bottle on the table.

Jack shrugs his shirt over his shoulders. He wasn't planning to stick around, but figured he might get another drink. "You serious?"

Every muscle in Black's back tenses for a moment. Then he relaxes. It's the way a guilty man moves when he realizes he just got away with it.

Except with Jack there's no getting away. He's Special Forces trained; knows how to inflict pain.

Jack puts on his boots, grabs his jacket, checks for his wallet and keys. "Bet Remus doesn't bite you half as deep as I did," he says casually.

Black throws back the last of that strange drink and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. The look in his eyes is hollow—like a man who's lost everything, something Jack knows better than he'd like to admit. He hadn't seen the look before, but now a lot of things make more sense.

"Leave," Black says quietly.

Jack nods. He grabs the doorknob and pulls. 

Before he shuts the door he hears the man say, "You're right; he's much more careful than that."

Daniel is at Jack's house waiting for him. Gentle Daniel, who is also much more careful than that, who shouldn't trust Jack, but Jack knows that he will. Jack finds his shoulders tightening then relaxing. He's a guilty man who's gotten away with it. He hasn't seen Daniel yet, but knows he'll get away with it.

Jack walks down the stairs, not focusing on the steps, feeling the color draining from his face. Jack wonders if his eyes are as hollow as Black's, and whether or not he'll be able to shake that look before laying eyes on Daniel again.


End file.
